


The Golden Boy

by aronnaxs



Category: L.A. Noire
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Praise Kink, but it has a sorta happy ending I promise, it wasn’t meant to get this angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 23:08:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14725370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aronnaxs/pseuds/aronnaxs
Summary: Cole gets enough praise. Stefan might be jealous of him. But here, in bed, it is a different story.(Otherwise known as: the one in which Cole has a massive praise kink and Stefan is all too happy to help him out with it)





	The Golden Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo ~ I wrote this a few weeks back after falling head over heels with this gorgeous game. I’ve been debating whether to upload it as it’s my first E rated fanfic on here for yearsssss. But hey here it is. I am shipping these two so hard, it wasn’t meant to get so angsty in the middle there but Cole comes with angst.

“Attaboy, that’s it, you’re doing so well.”

Cole Phelps, Golden Boy of the LAPD, doesn’t need any more praise. He gets it from the moment he walks into the station, all the way through their cases, hell even strangers on the street know him. “Hey, isn’t that the cop from the papers?” “That’s Phelps, right?” “That’s the guy who busted the jewellery store murder.” Yeah, it is. No one ever sees the detective walking next to him. Is Stefan jealous? Maybe. Enough not to want to risk stroking Cole’s ego by showering him with any more compliments. 

But, now, it’s different. They’re not on the streets. Cole is out of his neat suit. His hat is off, hair coming out of its slicked style. His oh so perfect composure is starting to crack. Stefan wonders what those same pedestrians would say if they could see him now - sat on Stefan’s lap, thighs trembling around his hips, riding him with a skill that Stefan would not expect different of.

Fuck, he shouldn’t compliment him anymore. But every time he does, Cole’s mouth slips open a little more, his head goes back, eyes fluttering. He fucking loves it. He should have known that Cole would get off on this, no matter how hard he tries to deny it. “Jesus, Phelps, you feel so good;” Stefan says. “Like you like this. Just like this.”

Cole hums and lets Stefan hold on to his waist, but still can’t quite give up control of the rhythm. He is going slow and deliberate, raising up, down, up, down. Stefan follows along, though he wants nothing more than to fuck up into him. Cole has been distracted all day, quieter, even more somber and serious than usual. Stefan wants to make him forget all that - whatever is going on in his head. But no, Cole always has to be in control. Cole has to know what he is doing and when and how.

He leans down and balances himself over Stefan. He rocks back and the angle must do something for him as he is suddenly biting his lip hard. Stefan cradles his neck and wants to bring him in for a kiss, but he turns away, not allowing himself. Still, Stefan doesn’t give up. He pushes his hips up as Cole goes down. It elicits a small moan. “Good boy,” he murmurs into his ear. “Doing so well. So, so well.”

Cole seems to weaken a little. His arms tremble where he’s holding himself up. For a moment, Stefan thinks he’s going to collapse over him but he regains himself, pulls back. He’s doing a good job of staying distant even while fucking himself on Stefan’s cock. He’s got Stefan thinking like a shit-scared husband - wondering desperately what he’s done wrong to upset him. Who the hell knows with Cole. Something is eating away at him anyway. He’s never going to talk about it. And Stefan isn’t here to be his shrink. But he thought that maybe he could make him feel good tonight, good enough that he could forget it for a while.

He runs his hands up Cole’s sides, over his shoulders, tangles his fingers in his hair. Slowly kissing at his ear (Cole allows that at least), he says, “you wanna swap places?”

Cole looks at him like he’s just asked to interrogate a suspect before him. His movements slow, but don’t stop. “C’mon, Cole, I don’t want you doing all the work.”

Cole swallows. “I didn’t think I’d hear you say that.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

Cole pauses, thinks about it, then nods. Stefan flips them before he can change his mind. He loves being on top of Cole, loves how he grips his arms for support, loves how his knees bracket his waist, loves how he looks up at him. He looks so damn nervous and Stefan wants to shake him and say goddammit Cole, you’ve faced worse than this only today, tailing that guy and rushing headlong into traffic. I’m not gonna hurt you. But, instead, he cups his face and presses their mouths together in a kiss that surprises even him. It is deep, passionate, needy, full of something that says how he’s not just fucking him for the hell of it. He has not kissed him quite like that before.

Cole stares up at him as they break apart. His lips are swollen, face flushed. “Bekowsky,” he starts, then gasps as Stefan thrusts forward. His eyes roll shut as he finally takes control of their rhythm. He is faster, harder, than Cole was and it makes him shake. 

“That’s it,” Stefan says, drawing his mouth against his cheek. “Let me take care of you.”

Cole is not used to this, but he warms up quickly and lets Stefan give it to him. His legs, still trembling, loop around his. He tilts his head as Stefan moves to kiss each side of his neck, sucking the skin, wanting so bad to make a mark. He is so hot and tight inside, and god fucking dammit, he really is incredible. Stefan takes command of his perfect composure, treats him so well, and can barely stop himself from fucking the sense right out of him. He knows he is good at this. Cole’s increasing moans are proof of that. 

And Christ, the way he moans. It is all Stefan can think of now when they are on a case. He knew this would be bad for him. He knew this was a mistake. But screw it, he can’t go back now.

He presses their foreheads together, brushes their lips. Cole leans up for another kiss. He gladly gives him one. “God, you’re fucking amazing, Phelps, you know that?” Cole shivers, so Stefan doesn’t stop. “The Golden Boy, that’s what they call you. I know you like hearing that. Fuck, you feel good. You’re doing so well, so, so well, such a - such a good boy.”

“Oh god,” Cole keens, bright red. His hands claw at Stefan’s back. He loves this so much, maybe this is what he needs. To be told this, to remedy whatever’s going on in his head. Stefan changes his angle a little and manages to get deeper. Cole twists his head into the pillow, knees clamping as he hits his target. 

“I could do this forever,” Stefan continues, unable to stop himself. “You’re so incredible. Love having a partner like you, Phelps. You know what you’re doing - can make - can make anyone do anything. And now, fucking look at you.” Cole buries his face in Stefan’s shoulder, breath almost coming in sobs. Stefan is right where he wants him now. See how good I can make you feel, he thinks. “Look at you. The star of the LAPD, the war hero -“

Cole stiffens. Suddenly, his breath stops against Stefan’s neck. Stefan pauses. Cole slowly pulls away and fixes him with that serious look. “Don’t call me that,” he says without wavering.

Shit, so that is what this is about. In an instant, Stefan knows he’s fucked up. He searches for something to say, but comes up with absolutely nothing. He has flicked some switch inside of Cole and those walls are coming up again. He should stop now. He might have done, but...but Cole’s legs are still around his waist, and Christ, he can’t tell what he wants anymore. Maybe he doesn’t know him as well as he thinks.

It is almost embarrassing to keep thrusting inside of him. He turns away from him, leans into the pillow, so he doesn’t have to look at his face. Every time he thinks he is getting closer to Cole, he puts his foot in it again. The balance between them is still so tentative. It’s like he’s the fucking rookie detective and not the other way round, always looking over his shoulder, careful of what he’s saying. Cole has a ticking bomb inside of himself. 

He is starting to sigh again. Of course he is. Stefan is going hard, maybe trying to get this over and done with now. Why the hell do they keep doing this? Why the hell does Cole keep letting him take him back to his apartment just to - do this to him? It won’t work. It’ll never work.

But then Cole is reaching up. He cradles Stefan’s head and guides him away from his shoulder. Their lips brush hesitantly. Cole closes his eyes. “Don’t stop talking,” he whispers.

Stefan swallows. “You want me to?”

Cole nods. “Please, Stefan.”

Please, Stefan. A plea, and he’s saying his first name. Two things that hardly ever happen here. It sounds too much like an apology for his sudden coldness, and no, Cole doesn’t need to apologise for that, that’s the last thing he needs to apologise for, and... Jesus, Stefan thinks, he’s got me so good.

He can’t deny him anything. He gently lifts Cole’s arms, loops them about his neck and reaches down to press his knee back further. The angle makes his mouth fall open. They return to where they left off, but no, no, it’s different now. Stefan is going deeper and faster, bouncing Cole’s hips against the bed. Not just that, he is kissing, biting, sucking at his neck and throat, ear, lips, anywhere he can reach, worshipping him, driving him crazy. Let me take your mind off things, Stefan thinks. He really, really has him, hook, line, sinker. 

“Christ, Cole,” he breathes. “The things I’d fucking do for you. I’ll do anything. You make me - you make me insane, you know that?”

He doesn’t mean to tell him this, but it’s all coming out now. It’s cutting too close to the deepest truth, and Cole is only making it worse, moaning, beginning to repeat, “Stefan - Stefan -“ He anchors himself, drives so hard into him that the headboard of the bed is starting to smack the wall. It turns Stefan on even more. 

“Can’t get - enough of you, Cole. Want you so much. Want you - everywhere. You don’t how much I fucking need you.”

“Yes,” Cole sighs. “Yes - I do, I do know.”

Stefan looks down at him, flushed, hazy-eyed. “You do?”

A small smile that turns Stefan’s heart upside down. “You think I’d let anyone do this?”

“Christ.” Stefan leans in and kisses him again. It is open-mouthed, messy, feverish. Cole bunches his hands in his hair and only pulls away when he gasps for breath. Stefan doesn’t let him get it, assaulting his prostate, making his eyes roll up, making him throw his head back. His legs tighten around his waist and Stefan can feel his orgasm coming from deep inside. He reaches between them and strokes him to his rhythm.

“Ah, Stefan!” he cries. “God, fuck -“

Stefan doesn’t stop. He kisses Cole’s exposed throat all over, scraping his teeth, feeling it flutter frantically. His hips are bucking, moans high, desperate. He is working up, up, up... “That’s it,” Stefan urges. “That’s it, attaboy, you’re so good, come for me. Good - good boy.”

And that is what sends Cole over the edge. He arches and, “Stefan!” He comes unbelievably hard. He screws shut his eyes, grabs Stefan’s shoulder and presses his head back into the pillow. Stefan fucks him through it, trying to make it last as long as he can. He is rewarded by Cole, uninhibited, almost sobbing as the waves hit him. 

He can’t take anymore. Cole clamps so tight around him. The world flashes in his eyes and then he is following him right over. He has no words for how fucking good it feels. He rides it out in short thrusts, burying his cries in Cole’s shoulder. Cole’s panting breaths and shaky moans only spur him on.

When it is over, he slowly rolls off Cole with a groan. He looks half-dazed, with the expression of a man who has only just woken up. He reaches out and turns him to face him. “Hey,” he says. “You alright?”

Cole nods. He leans in and kisses him. He lingers, letting it deepen leisurely. Stefan pulls his body closer, embraces him tightly. “Yeah, I’m alright,” Cole whispers when he breaks off, resting his forehead against Stefan’s. “Thank you.”

A plea, and a thank you. Stefan wonders what the hell has happened. But he doesn’t give him any sarcastic comment, only nuzzles him and says, “you’re welcome.”

They lay like this for the rest of the night. Sometimes, Cole will leave and Stefan won’t see him until they’re at Central the next day, but this time, he puts his head on the pillow next to Stefan, and is asleep in minutes. Stefan cleans them up and holds him close. He is down now, completely enamoured with this goddamn man. He’ll do whatever it is he needs to help him, no matter what, or where, that is. He knows he can’t fix him entirely but... He can try and soften his jagged edges.

All this time, he’s thought they’ve been unequal - Cole always the centre of attention, and Stefan in the background. But now, he’s never been less jealous in his life. They’re partners, after all.

One day, Stefan knows, Cole will be promoted again and he will have to let him go. But not yet. He tightens his embrace possessively and places one more kiss on his cheek. Cole smiles softly in his sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> So my next LA Noire fanfic is a big 9000-word one shot full of smut and fluff and more angst which I’ve almost finished (Stefan/Cole again because *heart breaks*). And *whispers* I’m also gonna start a Stefan/Cole/Roy one sue me, and maybe some post-canon Jack and Stefan because I need to write some Jack Kelso ~ 
> 
> Anyways, feedback always appreciated, thanks for getting this far c:


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